


16. Purple

by wicherwill



Series: 100 prompts [3]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: F/M, Fluff, bit more rough but its finished so lets go with it, this is bringing back lots of memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicherwill/pseuds/wicherwill
Summary: no one wants to be unknowable and mysterious
Relationships: Eriol Hiiragizawa/Daidouji Tomoyo
Series: 100 prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680868
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	16. Purple

Eriol had sat behind her now for years on end. Years and years of observing, of watching, of reading every little nuance.

When she had a blank look on her face, she was curious. When she looked curious, she was interested. When she looked interested, she wanted to know. When she looked like she wanted to know, she was dying to know. When she looked as if she were dying to know…Eriol wasn’t sure what that meant, and that bothered him sometimes.

Daidouji Tomoyo was a mystery that he had been trying to crack for years. Since that first meeting. Since the day when he returned from England, without a word. After everyone had clamoured around him, she had stayed behind, and all she had said was that she was sorry. Unspoken were the phrases _that you and sensei have broken up_ and _that you have to restart your life_ and _don’t worry I won’t say anything_.

He had meant to respond only with a nod, but his façade had fallen to pieces at that very damned second and he had blurted out, “I…Tomoyo…”

  
The sound of her name had given her only the briefest of surprises. Recovering in a split second, she had informed him that his old house had been marked for demolition, but she had recovered it after the town had tried, unsuccessfully, to contact him. She had been trying, she said, for a while, but had he moved? Even Sakura-chan wasn’t able to get in contact…

Eriol hadn’t been able to process anything. He had spent the rest of the afternoon in his old living room, amongst the sheet-covered furniture. Crying. Softly.

Ever since then, he had tried to understand her. When that proved useless, he started from the ground up. Dissected her mannerisms, her quirks…and slowly, he started to understand parts of her.

“Hiiragizawa-kun?”

That was the biggest clue, he admitted ruefully. Between the two of them it was always achingly polite. “Yes, Daidouji-san?” Her eyes were focused on him, and he had to concentrate to avoid becoming lost. Shockingly violet eyes that anyone would die for.

“I think we should schedule a time for our art project soon, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Sketch a portrait in one colour theme.

“I brought my pencils today, but if you didn’t…oh, you did? Well, then could we sketch sometime tomorrow after school?”

“Are you, by chance, free today?”

“My apologies, Hiiragizawa-kun, but I promised that I would help Sakura-chan with her maths homework today. I might be able to come by later, to your house…”  
  
Eriol’s mind froze for a moment at the thought of having her at his house, but he knew a polite offer when he saw one. “That is unnecessary, Daidouji-san. Tomorrow after school would be fine.” A tiny flare of magic announced the arrival of a familiar person, distracting him. Eriol smiled to himself. His descendant, shielding himself, to properly surprise Sakura-san. How cute.

Tomoyo had been watching him, an intent look on her face. “Anything wrong, Hiiragizawa-kun?”

Eriol thought about telling her, but then changed his mind. “Do you still have your camera?”

“I…yes, there might be one in the audiovisual lab. Why?”  
  
”You might want it. Soon.”

Tomoyo paused, apparently deciding that expressing confusion was polite in this instance. “Hiiragizawa-kun,” she began, “why would I want this?”

_Because you deserve a surprise every now and then, too. No fair that you_ know _everything._ “I have a feeling that something is going to happen today.”

A flicker of a genuine smile flashed across her face. “And here I thought we had cured you of your penchant of mysterious airs.”

“Never, my dear. Why, the stars inform me that due to the position of Io and Jupiter…and you will meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger. He will sit right behind you!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, the fates have informed me…”

“Any more clues? Because, honestly, these dark types are much too sketchy, so I’d like to avoid him.”

“What…? No, I meant…” Was this the moment? Was this Tomoyo opening up? Now. Of all times. Would surprises ever cease? “Actually, Daidouji-san, if you really, really wanted to know…”

She turned around fully, her hair falling forward to brush against his desk. “Yes? I hate surprises, you should know that.”

Did she? “Well, fine. Today’s surprise is—”

“Tomoyo-chan! Syaoran-kun is back early!” Sakura’s gleeful voice trilled across the room. The object of her affections poked his head into the classroom, a sheepish grin on his face.

A smile lit up Eriol’s face at seeing Sakura-san radiate happiness. He turned back to Tomoyo, with a look of ‘I-told-you-so,’ and…froze.

Tomoyo’s face, normally so composed, betrayed a queer sort of complete and utter shock. Her hands were clenching the back of the seat, her knuckles turning even paler than normal. Her cheeks had lost their healthy flush.

“Daidouji-san?” Eriol whispered, “are you…is there something…?”

She shook herself, her eyes refocusing. She gave him one long look of complete betrayal, her eyes silently saying, _how_ could _you?_

“Tomoyo-chan! Eriol-kun! We have to go out today for ice cream! And juice! And cake!” Sakura had made her way to the two of them. The clock indicated that it was past the start of homeroom, but in the absence of a teacher everyone continued to chatter.

Tomoyo now appeared to have recovered enough to speak. “Ohayo, Li-kun. I trust your flight was okay?”

As Syaoran nodded, Sakura wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head into his side. Eriol watched as Syaoran absently snaked his arm around her, all the while answering Tomoyo’s polite enquiries as to his health and that of all his family.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she finished.

Syaoran seemed to notice this change in her tone at the same moment Eriol did. “Daidouji-chan—” he began, while Eriol reached up to place his hand on one of hers.

The simple movement set off a chain reaction. Tomoyo jumped, the colour coming back into her cheeks. Syaoran made a strangled noise deep in his throat, which caused Sakura to move back in confusion. Eriol quickly withdrew his hand, busying himself with something in his bag.

When he resurfaced, everyone had gone back to his or her previous position, and Sakura was rattling off names of nearby cafés.

Eriol could tell that Tomoyo was only half-listening to Sakura. She glanced at him, then at Sakura, then back at him, as if considering something.

“…oh, and the new one on the corner by the post office is supposed to be good, too! Ne, Tomoyo-chan, where should we go?”

At this, Tomoyo clambered off her chair and stood up. “Gomen, Sakura-chan, but I’m afraid that Hiiragizawa-kun and I have to do our art project today. Why don’t you and Li-kun spend the afternoon together, and we’ll all do something together another time?”

The arrival of the homeroom teacher cut short Sakura’s protests. Tomoyo very carefully sat back down in her seat, avoiding Eriol’s gaze.

Eriol, on his part, took very careful notes, latching onto each word the sensei said.

That, at least, was easier than dwelling on her seemingly endless complexity.

Their session, awkwardly scheduled in one of the cramped, solo study rooms, started out ominously as Eriol was late.

“Daidouji-san, I—”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologise. I should be apologising for…imposing.”

  
Eriol shook his head. “Never, please don’t.”

She smiled weakly at him, and then busied herself with rearranging her drawing materials. “I hope you will at least allow me to say thank you, then.”

  
Eriol nodded, noting with some amusement that she had chosen a completely grey palette for him.

She noticed his glance and shrugged. “Call me cliché, because I am.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Daidouji-san.”

“Grey? Shades of grey?”

“Everyone is a shade of grey, though.”

“Not as much as you. Your world only exists in shades of grey. Look, I brought no black. Nothing is black and white in your world, is it?”

“Nothing is black and white, yes.”

She smiled. “I would have to disagree. Some things are.”

After a moment, Eriol realised that she was planning on saying no more. It must have shown on his face, because she bit her lip and looked down, all the while rearranging her materials.

“It’s a funny assignment, isn’t it?” she said, suddenly breaking the moment of silence, “I mean, sensei never said anything about why we need to pick a colour, and yet here we all are, reading volumes into the selection of a theme. I should have chosen pink for you, or something.” The idea of pink clearly amused her, but only for a moment.

Eriol wanted to say something. Anything. _I want you to confide in me, Tomoyo-san._ _Let me understand, Tomoyo-san. Help me to clear your eyes, Tomoyo-san._ The thought of her eyes reminded Eriol of the assignment. “Oh, that’s right. I have my pencils, too.” He rummaged in his bag, finally finding the slim, metal case. “Here they are.”

“Let’s see them, then. What colour, what aura the mystical sorcerer has chosen.” She smiled faintly.

Eriol looked at her and almost dropped his pencil case. Tomoyo’s face, normally so blank and emotionless, was frighteningly easy to read. Her eyes were focused on his art supplies, almost begging him to…say something. It was as if her entire being rested on what he’d picked. For a throwaway art project.

_Please, Hiiragizawa-kun_ , she seemed to be saying, _tell me something about myself._

Carefully, he opened his pencil case, revealing a neat row of sharpened pencils, each in a different shade of violet. He looked up at her and was surprised to find hints of disappointment. He felt the need to explain quickly, and so muttered, “Violet, for your eyes.”

The disappointment, if it had existed, suddenly disappeared, to be replaced by a placid look. “Thank you, Hiiragizawa-kun. Shall we begin?”

Eriol nodded, his mind concentrated on her reaction. His hand flew, of its own accord, across the paper, outlining and shading. All the while, he kept his gaze on Tomoyo, but she never looked up.

Fifteen minutes passed, and he was about to ask Tomoyo anything to get her to look at him when suddenly she passed her sketch across the table, finished.

Eriol grabbed it, his eyes widening in amazement at the level of detail and sincerity in the work. It was done completely in grey, without any real areas of white or black, as promised. The pose, a simple glance upwards, was one in which he could imagine himself. He glanced back at Tomoyo, who was furiously throwing things into her bag. “Daidouji-san, wait—” He glanced down at his drawing. It was a good likeness, and it would earn an excellent grade, but somehow it paled in comparison.

“—no, Hiiragizawa-kun, I can’t wait.”

The curt reply stung Eriol, who suddenly found himself at a loss for words. “I’m…excuse me?”

Tomoyo sat back down, her eyes level with Eriol’s. “I said, I can’t wait. I’m sorry, Hiiragizawa-kun, but…” Her manners kicked back in, and she smiled politely. “I’m sorry, I’m really very tired and I have a headache. Could we finish this another time?”

“Of cour—no, no, wait. Daidouji-san, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just tired. I’m free tomorrow, as we originally planned.” Her eyes were panicked now, constantly darting towards the door.

Eriol shook his head to clear it. “Daidouji-san, what’s wrong?”

Tomoyo shook her head once, wavering, and then buried her head in her hands. “If not you, then who? Purple? Could you be more cliché?”

Eriol continued to shake his head, now overloaded with completely new information. “Daidouji-san…I…purple? What?”

Tomoyo looked up, her eyes tearing. “…and you weren’t s-supposed to be everyone, you w-were supposed to _know_ …”

“Know what?”

“This isn’t fair, you g-got to break down at home! Alone!” Tears had started falling in earnest.

Eriol grabbed a handkerchief, slightly alarmed. “How do you…?”

Tomoyo swatted at her eyes and then looked at him, angrily. “You come in, your face a mess, your eyes puffy, and your nose rubbed red, and you expect me not to realise?”

“Daidouji-san, I never—”

“You never a lot of things! You never thought that perhaps I wouldn’t particularly care to know that Li-kun is returning, did you?”

“But you…you still…?”

Tomoyo looked at him with a disbelieving look on her face. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“But you seemed…I thought…”

“You seemed fine, too, didn’t you? Showing up without a word and we’re supposed to assume you just decided on a change of scenery?”

“I’m sorry, then, that I didn’t realise…gomen, Daidouji-san, I didn’t realise—”

“I took the time to find out, you know? Took the time to understand what had happened with you.”

“But you’re so…mysterious…” Eriol blushed, knowing how stupid that comment sounded.

Tomoyo covered her eyes with her hand. “You didn’t realise a lot, Hiiragizawa-kun,” she sighed, “and now I have to go, okay? Your sketch looks fine. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tomorrow. Choir practice. Forgot. Sorry.”

They both knew she didn’t, really, but all Eriol could do was watch her leave. The door continued swinging, slowly coming to rest.

Turning to the piano, he began to play scales as deliberately as possible. Because that was easier than admitting that he didn’t know Daidouji Tomoyo at all.

He was late the next day, having starved himself of sleep as retaliation for something that he couldn’t quite name. He stopped short on the threshold, however, at the sight of her desk. Empty.

He moved slowly towards his seat, methodically taking out his notebooks and pencils and erasers and sharpener and opening to a new page and writing the date in the upper right. The teacher was already drawing some figures on the board, and Eriol picked up a pencil to start copying them down.

Her absence suddenly weighed heavily on him. Sitting in the same place, without her in front, he felt his mind clear.

He and Daidouji…Tomoyo…well…

It was so simple.

They were the same in so many ways.

Pieces began falling into place, almost faster than he could process them.

He grabbed his sketchpad and began scribbling.

She returned to school the morning of their presentation. She looked slightly paler than normal, but other than that she was her normal, animated—

Eriol checked himself and looked closer. _She’s not a mystery_ , he intoned to himself, _she feels, the same as everyone else._

And then he saw something.

Her smile, while brilliant, didn’t reach her eyes. When removing her school supplies, she grasped her things somewhat tightly, as if otherwise she would fall apart. Even her breathing had a peculiar pattern—a deep breath, another deep breath, but then a pause, and then a slightly deeper breath, a normal deep breath, another deep breath, a pause—

“Eriol!”

Caught in mimicking Tomoyo’s breathing patterns, Eriol ended up taking a long, shuddering breath. Turning to Sakura, he hissed, “What?”

“Attendance!” she whispered back, pretending to look in her bag.

“Oh… present!” he called out, and then went back to shuffling papers. After a few more moments, he chanced another glance at her.

It was completely and utterly disarming. There was nothing different about her mannerisms, or appearance, but suddenly Eriol could detect so many little subtleties.

He couldn’t help but notice the irony of it…in taking her down from one pedestal and making her a human being, with faults, he had simply put her on another.

She was completely and utterly heartbroken, and she hadn’t said a word. Her mantra of happiness had become a lament, a slow poison that had been eating away at her for years, and up until this week even he’d been fooled. If it weren’t so sad, Eriol would have found it amusing: Tomoyo, Sadist.

There was something key that he was missing, and it was right under his nose.

His thoughts occupied him for most of the day. Sakura constantly kept an eye on him, to ensure that he responded to the teacher’s inquiries and eventually recruited a very reluctant Syaoran to supply answers. In fact, if Eriol hadn’t been so preoccupied, he would have found the whole situation highly amusing.

He watched the mostly mediocre work of his fellow classmates, most of which looked as if it had been completed last period.

When the teacher called them, relief apparent on her face, he silently stood up, carefully slid out his portfolio, and followed Tomoyo to the front.

There was an audible intake of breath when she displayed her series of sketches. Had he not seen her work that one day, Eriol would have been unable to pick out the one she had done from memory.

She had added another four, bringing the total to five. They were all common poses, true, but there was something off about each one. When she finished her short presentation, she gathered them up and shifted to a corner, not meeting his eyes.

He took a deep breath, and then flipped open his portfolio, swiftly removing the top six pieces of paper. Moving quickly, he set them up on the easels and stepped back.

The reaction was astounding, but he didn’t notice. All his attention was focused squarely on her face, which was currently impassable and unreadable, taking in his sketches.

Eriol gave up and glanced at his work. Once the idea had struck him, he’d spent a fair amount of time on each one, but they still looked bizarre.

His six realistic sketches looked back at him, each in varying shades of pink.

Looking around, he realised that the class was eagerly awaiting his presentation—that, or they realised that there were three minutes until the bell rang. Smiling, Eriol put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“It’s funny, but I chose pink because it’s typically known as a feminine colour. The typical colour used to swaddle a newborn girl, the customary favourite colour, etc.”

He glanced at Tomoyo. She looked back, her gaze steady but still unreadable.

Looking back, he continued, “I began with the assignment. I chose a colour scheme that would, ah, match Daidouji-san’s physical characteristics. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your viewpoint, I quickly realised that it just wasn’t working.”

“So, in the end, I chose pink.” He took the opportunity to catch her glance and hold it. “I chose pink because Daidouji is, in the end, simply a normal girl, with normal problems, and normal feelings.

The bell rang at that exact moment, and the class burst into activity, disregarding the teacher’s attempts to provide insightful comments. Eriol, however, wouldn’t have noticed if the proverbial purple elephant and all its multicoloured animal friends had decided to roost in the classroom. The world had shrunk to the two of them, frozen in place.

Sakura shot him a look on her way out, and the teacher gushed something about their work, but Eriol wasn’t paying attention. Sooner than he expected, the classroom was empty.

“And then there were two,” Eriol muttered to himself. Straightening up, he began to take down his sketches.

Suddenly, Tomoyo was at his side, her hand on his, pushing his hand away. She looked at him, no longer guarded (or was it that he could read her? It was all so confusing). Her face bore the same look that had haunted him: _please, please be the one who understands._

“You’re really very talented, Hiiragizawa-kun.”

“You too, Daidouji-chan. I couldn’t…well, that would be a lie. I could tell your freeform sketches from the posed ones, but they were still excellent.”

She looked up at him, with those questioning eyes. “Yours were perfect,” she said softly.

Eriol looked at her blankly. She was like a book controlled by something else—sometimes open, sometimes closed. What was it that he couldn’t unlock? “Well,” he said slowly, testing his words, “I really meant what I said.”

“Really.” It was not a question; it was a simple sign of acknowledgement. He knew that.

“Yes, actually. I…I think I…you’re flawed, Daidouji-chan, and I think that…I mean, I mean that in the best way possible. In a positive way.”

“I understand.”

God damn her inscrutable, placid manner! Eriol forced himself to remain in the moment, but he knew he was fighting an uphill battle. “So, as I was trying to say, it’s just…I feel as if…I consider myself your friend, and I’ve been a rotten friend. I’m sorry that I was so careless. About the whole Syaoran affair.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, Eriol knew he had committed a grave mistake.

Her face had gone from being benign to completely impassable. She drew her lips in a straight line, as if it hurt to smile. “It’s nothing, Hiiragizawa-san. Really. The thought never crossed my mind.”

Eriol wasn’t even sure he’d heard the last part, but he knew that he had to continue. He was standing on the edge of a Tomoyo cliff, and doing nothing would certainly doom him. “Look, Daidouji…wait, don’t leave…just listen…come on, Tomoyo…” he froze. Had he just…?

It seemed to have worked, because she stopped and turned around, pursing her lips as if she wanted to say something.

_The Tomoyo Book is back open_ , he thought, deriving little pleasure from the mental imagine. _Well, I’ve dug myself this deep, might as well…_ “I’m sorry, Daidouji, but please listen. I feel awful that as one of your closest friends I could have been so insensitive. I suppose that you’re just so calm, and, you know, mature that I forgot that you must have emotions, too. I can understand if you’re upset with me, but…I really want to…if you ever need to talk about…this, please find me. I…I don’t want to lose you.” The words slid easily out of his mouth, and he knew that it was now up to her.

But the expression on Tomoyo’s face was one he was not expecting at all. Unabashedly, without any trace of her customary Japanese politeness or years of fine breeding, Tomoyo was gawking at him, seemingly torn between disbelief and frustration.

Eriol was about to ask her what was wrong when she placed a single finger over his lips.

“Shh,” she said, “I need you to just stay quiet.”

And with that, she removed her hand, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

It was over before Eriol had fully processed its existence, but he was nevertheless fully aware of what had just happened. Of the magnitude of what had just happened. He was about to say something when she interrupted him again.

“I didn’t say speak, did I? Now _you_ listen, Hiiragizawa. Do you understand now?” When he nodded mutely, she simply rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. Hear me carefully, would you? I don’t love Sakura-chan. Well, I mean, I do, but not in that way anymore. I’m delighted that Syaoran-kun is back, and I knew he was coming back around this time, but the reason that I was so upset is because I love you, you blind dolt.”

“Oh,” was Eriol’s external response. Inside his head, however, his brain was racing so fast that steam was about to pour out of his ears. “You do?”

“Of course I do. Why else…I mean…what’s wrong with you? I thought your skill was reading people?”

Eriol found himself defending his predecessor on autopilot. “Clow wasn’t all that great with reading the human heart. He always felt that it confused us. I mean him.” He paused, and then shook his head. “No, I think I meant us.”

“Yes, well, there you have it.” She seemed to suddenly lose her resolve. She shrunk back, mumbling, “I’ll be going, then.”

Eriol nodded absently, trying to sift through the completely ruined Tomoyo Puzzle in his head. He could get important corner pieces, now—Tomoyo isn’t in love with Sakura-chan. Tomoyo loves me.

Tomoyo was upset because I thought she was the same girl as always.

Suddenly, there it was. Clear as a bell.

Tomoyo was halfway across the main school courtyard, her car in sight, when he came to the most staggering revelation of all. Knowing he didn’t have a moment to lose, he grabbed his bad and sprinted down the hallway, down three flights of stairs, through the heavy double doors, calling out, “Daidouji! Oi, Daidouji! Oh, for heaven’s sake—TOMOYO!”

For the second time that day, she turned around. Eriol could tell—it was amazing how easily he could tell—she was attempting to remain calm, but she was radiating anxiety, and disappointment, and fear, and even a bit of anger.

Slowing down as he reached her, he doubled over for a moment to catch his breath while she stood by, awkwardly patting his back. “Hiiragizawa-san, are you—”

He didn’t let her finish, however, by simply placing a finger over her mouth.

She skipped backwards a step, looking up at him through her eyelashes. She wasn’t even trying to hide her emotions this time, for her message was clear: _ball’s in your court_.

Eriol shook his head. “Tomoyo. I have no ability to read any situation, as I’m an idiot who’s been in love with you for ages without ever realising it. Will you still have me?”

For once, Eriol thought, there was no mistaking Tomoyo’s response.


End file.
